It's hard being perfect. Let me tell you. Everyday, I am perfect. I have the perfect voice. I have the perfect personality. I have the perfect looks. I have the perfect education. I am the perfect lover. And not to mention, I have the perfect life. But, I have a secret…I'm not perfect.
Yea, that's right. I said it. I am not perfect. I'm tired of living my life like I am. Like I have no faults. It's frustrating, hard and it's just not me. No one is perfect and if no one is then you definitely know that I am not. So, why do people believe that I am? Because they don't know me that's why. They think that they do. But they don't and you know what? The truth is- that they never will. I don't want them to.
I'm so tired of it all. I really am. I'm not supposed to be. But I am. I'm supposed to act like this is everything I've wanted out of life. Yea, I've always dreamed of girls throwing themselves at my feet for just a glimpse of my boyish good looks. What guy in this world doesn't? It's only natural that I once did dream this. Now, it's like if I have to look at another one of them, I'm going to kill myself. I can't take it anymore.
You know that dream…that dream where you are standing in the middle of a crowded room. Everyone you know is there- talking, laughing, and enjoying him or herself. Then you look around you, slowly stand up, stomp your foot and scream. Scream as loud as you can for as long as you possibly can. You stop, look around and notice that not one person in the entire room blinked an eye. They all are continuing on- laughing, talking, and enjoying themselves. Almost as if you never existed and that scene that just went on never happened. Try having that come to life. Everyday of your life. Sitting in the midst of all these people, screaming to get out, but no one hears you nor do they care. It's like you're trapped. And there is no way of getting out.
I know, I sound incredibly bitter, conceited, and selfish. But, you know what? Even I, the perfect being, deserve that sometimes. Don't I? I'm not supposed think like this though. Do you know what it is like having your personality planned out for you? Every word is scripted. Every movement practiced the day before. Every smile, every wave, and every wink- they're all delivered exactly on time. Right when they are supposed to be. It's like I'm a puppet on a string being run by this puppeteer who has complete and utter control over everything I think, do, or say.
I'm tired of being perfect. Can't I just be me for once? Can't I just go out one time, no disguise, just me? Jeans, a t-shirt and some sneakers that is muddy from a football game hours earlier. My hair messy. My hands slightly dirty, but nothing disgusting. Just go to the mall, with the other people there and pretend that I am one of them. That is a dream day for me. To be equal to everyone else. To be able to walk down the street without the screaming, pointing, giggling and swooning. That would be the best present ever. Crazy talk? Maybe. But, even a perfect person dreams.
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